Talladega Nights: The Story of Ricky Bobby
by brendenrobbins
Summary: The story of how Ricky Bobby and Jean Girard are enemies at first but then become friends, it's a pretty bland story to be honest.


Robbins 4

Brenden Robbins

Mr. Denton

CP English 10

12 September, 2012

Talladega Nights: The Story of Ricky Bobby

Ricky Bobby, a man destined to be fast.

Ricky Bobby, the man who everyone adores, mostly because everyone watching TRASHCAR is pretty much white trash or redneck trying to be cool beans. I was one of those rednecks or white trash people that really worked up to watch stupid people waste their money racing and paying for ridiculous car parts.

I was racing in the Wild Water Run 300 in Miami Florida, the day after Jean had signed up with Dennnit racing. 450 laps down and 50 to go, Jean and I were neck and neck heading toward the finish line, I swerved and tried to get ahead of Jean but he could see my every move before I could even think of doing it. Just before we crossed the finish line, Jean had hit the back of my car and made me spin out of control and the result of doing so I had hit another driver and flipped my car and coming out with a broken arm and fractured leg, I managed to be safely pulled out of my car and rushed to the hospital. The doctors examined me and realized I was perfectly fine, I thought that the wreck would have broken a bone, but my thoughts were miscalculated and I had actually been saved by the roll cage in my car.

The very next day, I awoke in the hospital in and out of consciousness to see my friends and family come and see me in my hospital bed to wonder if I was okay. The day after Caul and Luscious came to the hospital I was currently staying at and told me that Sean was the most hated driver in TRASHCAR, even more hated than I was back before Jean even started racing for Dennit. The two had told me I could stand and drive the whole time, but I had no intention to listen to their ludicrous stories, just after that I was so certain they were lying, I stabbed a knife into my thigh and realized just then I could walk again and was pleased but I was in excruciating pain.

The day after I left the hospital, I went to my mom's house to prepare for the race 2 months from now, but unfortunately I didn't have a car to practice my super-duper driving skills on the track with. So, I managed to scramble some parts from a piece of crap car I had driven when I was younger, around my teen years. But, really the gravity of the situation is that my sponsors were a bunch of chicken poopies, and are too afraid of spending a lot of money on gear and parts to make me faster and better than Jean. Eventually, my father appeared out of the blue to help me become the driver I used to be. My training took me about a month and a half to complete, but I was ready to face any challenges that await me in the near future for TRASHCAR.

Today was the day for me to test my full abilities on the track. But, today wasn't race day; it was close, but not close enough. I and my father had raced for hours and hours, until I was a lap ahead and trailing Peter from 50 yards away and closing in on his tail.

The time has come, race day at the microwave oven 500, one of the largest, twisted, and complicated to understand tracks known to man. My team and I had created the fastest, legal car in TRASHCAR and were able to beat Jean by a lap; unfortunately the other cars and my best friend had crashed 2 laps ago. Jean and I were neck and neck in the final lap, he and I were trading paint 1000 yards before the finish line, and then suddenly we crashed, we were so determined to win the race, so we got out of our car and raced on foot to the finish line and I won, but the officials didn't count our foot race and we were disqualified, so Jimmy won 1st because he was in third when he wrecked. Jean and I had made up after the race had ended, and eventually became friends.

After 3 years, Jean and I had a Facebook chat from when he was in France during his vacation time from racing Indy cars.

"Hey Ricky, it's me Jean Girard?"

"Oh, hey how have you been?"

''Great, really great actually, just won my thirty sixth gold medal racing in Indy cars since I moved back to France."

"That's great news; I just won the TRASHCAR title for most ignorant driver on the track medal, I didn't even know that they had a medal like that." Said Ricky

"Well I'm guessing that they made that medal just for you then." Jean said

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing, why?" Jean said in a worried voice.

"That's what I thought you said."

"Well then, talk to you later I guess."

When the conversation ended, I went to the living room, sat down, and watched some Regular Show for about two and a half hours. Then, I got up and went to my kitchen to make a pizza, and just then the doorbell rang and it was Caul.

"Hey Ricky, can I stay at your place for a while?" Caul said in an angry voice.

"Sure. What's the matter? I said.

"Dennit just fired me from TRASHCAR, and my wife left me for some Russian."

As I told Caul what he should do about his situation, I finished my Digorno pizza with cheese crust and drank a 2 liter of mountain dew. When I drink mountain dew I go after people like a spider monkey and get all jacked up on mountain dew! But mainly, I tried to get Jimmy's job back but unfortunately I got him a job at my old doughnut shop, Ricky's roasted delights. Some old crazy man runs the place now since I left, but no need to worry though. In fact Caul actually liked that job as CEO of Ricky's roasted delights and earns about 3.5 million dollars a year, that's almost as much as I make in a single race, but who cares a job is a job no matter what. My father is now sober, Caul is a millionaire, Jean is still French, and I'm living my life to the fullest. That's my story of my life and I'm sticking to it.

The End.


End file.
